


Annual Correspondence

by thecookiemomma



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Epistolary, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-08-30
Updated: 2012-05-02
Packaged: 2017-10-23 06:30:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/247233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecookiemomma/pseuds/thecookiemomma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom Riddle and Argus Filch: Most recent correspondence as seized by the Ministry of Magic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Co-written with Ender

To My Dearest Friend,

I hope this letter finds you whole and well At the time I place quill to parchment, I am, alas, not quite myself, but hope to correct that with the impending start of a new term. I find myself longing for the comforts of Hogwarts, my last visit having been all too brief.

I must again give you my undying thanks for showing me that marvelous room. You were quite correct that it was perhaps the final chamber I had yet to penetrate. Thank you for your warning about the duo of red-headed mongrels, and I think your plan to divert their efforts to parallel that of the degenerate so-called Marauders is the best insurance conceivable to safeguard the item. Alas, if only the headmaster was a more reasonable soul and had accepted my most generous offer, perhaps then, your troubles and mine would be considerably reduced. You and I do – as always – see eye to eye on the fact that the old ways are best, both in the field of education and in the ministry in general.

As to the impending arrival of that misbegotten git whose ill-conceived parents so tortured you, I would suggest that you keep him and any he would happen to befriend under your closest observation. His progenitors' propensity for pernicious mischief may have carried over to him. (That is, unless the Sorting Hat should, in its enchanted wisdom, see fit to place him in Slytherin. In that case, it is to be hoped that the true Hogwarts traditions still observed by that noble house will guide him along a proper path.)

I also quite agree that the oaf should have been cast out around the time of his wand getting snapped. Blood always tells, and with blood such as that creature has – who knows what he will conceive of next, and what damages he will wreak to the hallowed halls of Hogwarts?

Sincerely yours always,  
Tom

 

Tom,

Thank you for the last letter. I had forgotten for a few moments that that young miscreant was due here this term. And believe you me, he has proven your basest theory. He's a troublemaker, and the friend of the giant. I'm convinced his father and his friends are sending him ideas from the grave. Dumbledore had him and his two little friends traipsing out into the Forbidden Forest at midnight. I was hoping the poor young lad would get lost and meet some of our more exciting friends out there.

Speaking of Dumbledore, I have to tell you. I think he's losing his marbles. Even more than normal. He's brought a Cerberus in this year, Tom, and that thing stinks. I'm sure it's been 'tamed' by you-know-who, but he hasn't shared his secret with me. I quit trying to clean that room a couple weeks into the term. If they want to clean up the mess, they can bloody well do it themselves! I've got enough on my hands with everything else I have to do.

Don't even mention those red-headed terrors. Luckily, they've all swanned off to spend time in their little hovel over holiday. All but the littlest. He's not much problem though. Other than a loud mouth, a little mud, and a few extra crumbs from pudding, he's no one of consequence. The only drawback to his presence is why. He's here to keep that Potter brat company! I'd almost rather have the other two –

Pardon me, Tom, I've got to cut this short. Norrie's making noises, and I'm sure there's someone out of bed. Were I a betting man, I'd bet my last knut that it's Potter. Hope your lot improves soon. If I can help with that, let me know.

Yours,  
Argus


	2. Year Two

I greet you, old friend:

Alas, life has not improved much for me as of yet. The mutual acquaintance who had volunteered his assistance was in fact a weak vessel and unfit for the endeavor. Perhaps soon a truer friend will appear.

 

I do hope that the esteemed Mrs. Norris has been able to run the quarry to ground or at least force the dear red headed rodents to keep their heads in that portrait-covered hole. Joy of joy if she has perchance delivered that misbegotten Potter into the tender embrace of your thumbscrews. Alas! That old codger Dumbledore dotes on him and – even deserving – Potter may never feel the bite of True Justice.

Now then, is it true that the son of the Longbottoms is also there? That insufferable duo of aurors whose miserable get has none of their flair? That he is in truth a base coward and is inept in all fields of magic save playing in the dirt? Perhaps Bella's tender ministrations were after all a kindness to them both. To have such a son would have tormented them both far more. Alas, the lost opportunity there.

 

It appears that many of my former friends have children now attending classes in the hallowed halls of Hogwarts. Do not trust any of them! The wretched get of those that abandoned me must by their very nature be unworthy of your trust. It is with great regret that I request this of you. With the traitor having been given my House and the future of magic at stake, keep all four houses under your eye, but make a special effort to assist Slytherin along the proper path.

Now then, if the Cerberus is still handy perhaps you could find a way to turn the damnable Gryffindor Common Room into its new kennel? Life at Hogwarts can be dangerous after all.

When possible, keep an ear open for the antics of Lucius Malfoy. Some time back, I entrusted him with a gift and would hate to find he has misused it.

I do apologize, old friend, for my rantings and rambling. This most recent disappointment has weakened me, and my mind wanders easily. I also hope you do not mind the substandard ink and parchment I am forced to endure. The wizarding community on the continent has deteriorated greatly and the quality of their supplies shows it. Perhaps someday, a young noble and farsighted ministry employee will do something about it? I must be off again. I hope to hear from you soon.

Your friend always,

Tom

Dear Tom,

My poor precious Norrie!! I am lost without her! Some foul student – and I suspect that demon-spawned Potter child, for he was standing right there – has petrified my precious baby! I shall not see her again until the old man and his sycophants are able to brew the Mandrake Draught. I cannot recall how long such a Draught takes to brew, but it seems to me that it was a very long time.

I heard about your own disappointment, my friend, and offer my condolences. I feel your loss hurt each of us alike. I haven't heard anything about Malfoy's using anything of yours, but that brat of his is Morgana's own terror. He's not as much a mess maker as his two minions, though.

The Longbottom boy is a roommate and friend of Potter, and I don't see how they get along so well. He is an imbecile, and tracks dirt through my halls at all times of day or night. He spends his free time with Sprout, which is, as you say, playing in the dirt. I think his parents would be very disappointed in him. I know his estimable grandmother seems to be.

Thank Merlin I have not seen hide nor hair of that nasty, foul creature again, Tom. Don't even suggest that. Do you know who would have to clean that mess up? I know the elves normally take care of the Common Rooms but introduce a menace like the Cerberus, and they'd scurry like little tiny rats. Speaking of rats, I saw a very interesting one running around here. He looked so much smarter than the normal fare Norrie normally chooses for supper, and he looked very familiar. But surely a rat can't live _that_ long, can it? 

Speaking of odd things I've seen and heard: You know that old girls' toilet on the second floor? For several months now, it has smelled awful! Much like my great aunt's house when she was making potions. I finally got the time to go check out the place (part of it was that my Norrie was petrified right around there and I didn't want to go anywhere near it), but there was nothing in there but a bit of extra water. I cleaned that right up, of course. 

Don't fret too much, Tom. I've done a bit of ranting of my own. My Norrie is missing and everything else seems to fall out of place when she's gone. I've had her so long – Ah, there I go again. I don't know about quill or parchment or ink quality, as I use such as I've been given and give thanks for it. But if you see a way to improve things for us all, I'm all for it. 

Yours as ever,

Argus


	3. Chapter 3

Dear Friend,

I hope you and the estimable Mrs. Norris have been safely reunited and the ruckus of the previous term has been abated. I myself am yet still suffering for the true form of our art.

If you are still having such troubles with the girls' toilet, chuck a few house elves in there and let them take care of it. I seem to recall an unfortunate incident occurring there, and would hate for you to run afoul of whatever might dwell within.

As to the matter of the rat: if by chance it scurries across your path once more, do try to see if Mrs. Norris might care for a snack. I am sure she wouldn't mind disposing of a loose end.

My exile goes poorly at the moment. The dreaded continental wizards have no spine, and worse yet, no pride. The natural order of their world has been thrown askew, and none of them have the foresight or fortitude to step in and fill the void. I would go so far as to say that blighted spawn of the Longbottoms' would understand better what needs to be done here.

I hope that quartet of fire-haired hellions have, perchance, failed to register for this year. Or, better yet, their progenitors' attempts to grovel at the feet of Dumbledore for scholarships will be justifiably rejected. What is this that I have heard about a mudblood whose abilities seem to be growing at a rate second to my own mark? One would almost think the fool's misguided policy of allowing such filth might in truth have merit. Perhaps, better yet, she might serve as an object lesson on such beings' true place in the universe. Such dilution of our blood and our knowledge can only lead to a continuation of our noble race's degeneration. Examples such as the mudblood and that accursed junior Potter reinvigorate my spirit, energizing me to continue my noble and much needed crusade.

The one bright spot in my life is that I have come across a new friend. In exchange for certain easily-agreed-to concessions, she has taken up residence with me. I hope to be able to introduce the two of you soon. I believe you and Nagini will get along well.

Your friend always,

Tom

  
  


Tom,

First off, I have to tell you the big news if you haven't heard it yet. I'm sure it has reached even you and Nagini there on the Continent. Sirius Black, Walburga and Orion's oldest, has escaped Azkaban. Since he was able to leave, the black-clad demons that guard that foul place now patrol here – he supposedly is intent on finishing the job for you. If he can do so, I am inclined to assist him, unless you tell me otherwise. As you can well imagine, the fool is in high dudgeon at the Dementors' presence. As long as they keep their foul mouths away from mine, I rather like having them around. Other than three Hufflepuff firsties who lost a bit of control in the hall after venturing too near the dark beasties, there have been only positive changes. Fewer escapades into the Forest, fewer pranks by those ginger brutes (more on them in a moment) and indeed, Potter fell from a very great height during his idiotic flights of fancy on the sporting field.

The doddering old fool has made a colossal error, I believe. The quietest of the Marauders is this year's defense professor. The students seem to like him, his Leonine fellows most of all, but the staff are all appropriately wary. Snape is the most upset by the choice, as you can well imagine.

The junior miscreants and the rest of that traitorous brood are indeed here at Hogwarts. Their soft parents won that idiotic contest the Daily Prophet runs. The winnings must have been substantial, considering they were able to go on a week's vacation to Africa and pay for all of their children's tuition with no perceivable issues. My sincere condolences on that point.

I will happily let Norrie eat any vermin she wishes, but in the event I see that particular rat again, I will be sure to point it out to her. I think it resides in Gryffindor, though I may be mistaken.

As to the Mudblood in question, there is something extremely strange going on with her. I don't know exactly what it is, but she seems to be everywhere. I remember she got called into her Head's office first thing, as I was watching the little blighters arrive, counting heads and the like. One day, I could have sworn I saw her two places at once. It might have been the influence of the mead I'd drunk that evening, however.

The troubles with the toilet seem to have ended as soon as summer term did. It was quite the odd timing. There seemed to be some mess with Potter again that landed him in the Hospital Wing along with the youngest traitor whelp. The only news I heard of it was a sticky goo on the floor that even Mrs. Skowers's wouldn't remove without extra scrubbing.

You're right about the dilution of bloodlines. My sister's little brats are running around here and they definitely don't seem as strong as she was at their age.

I offer you my hopes that you and your new-found companion are able to find suitable people with which to spend your time. Nagini indeed seems like a good companion to you and I would be delighted to meet her when you are able to introduce us.

Yours,

Argus


End file.
